Month: July 2017

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Wendy looked at the object at the end of her aunt’s extended finger, and blinked. Mina jabbed her finger at the car’s fender. “I mean, who woulda thought! A VW, here, in Israel!”

“Oh.” Wendy looked up at her aunt, a look of satisfied comprehension on her face. “Do they call it Tet Shin here?”

Every week, Rochelle Wisof-Fields hosts Friday Fictinoneers, where the objective is to write a complete story in 100 words or less in response to a photograph. I encourage you to learn more about Friday Fictioneers.

There are reasons for my blogging inactivity, good ones for sure. Been actively revising some the stories I’ve drafted on this blog, such as The Land Without Mosquitos, with an eye towards getting those works edited and published. Also taken a more active role in my wife’s home business; she’s a cake decorator, and I’ve started doing a good portion of the cake baking, which to my surprise has been a wonderfully satisfying experience (I’ll have to expand on that last thought at some point). There have been several big events in my personal life as well — graduations, managing my brother’s finances, college applications, the bittersweet journey of selling my late parents’ house, and planning for a major career change. So yeah, I’ve kept myself busy, and while I’ve kept writing and have enjoyed living my life, I’ve never been able to ignore the niggling regret over not blogging, an activity that brings me great pleasure.

To restart my blogging, I’m going to revisit techniques that have proven effective in the past — reblogging, prompt responses, the occasional movie review and political commentary, and yes, more bad poetry. But let’s start with some good verse, from puttingthedogtosleep, an imaginative rumination about serving breakfast to Death.

Archilochus shook his head dismissively. “If this thug knows that Crim and I were at Judge Oliver’s manor last night, other members of Yungen’s gang must also know. We can’t pretend I’m a spice merchant any longer, that identity’s been compromised. You — ” he jabbed a finger into Jay’s chest — “we need you to take us directly to Yungen, tonight.”

Jay rustled under Wolf’s grasp, and she released him. “He’s at his cabin this evening, outside the city.”

“His guards will be all over the place.” Wolf sheathed her knife. “Yungen goes there whenever he feels threatened.”

“He believes the Imperial Guard’s after him. I can get you there, but there’s no way I can get you in.”

Archilochus nodded. “We’ll figure that part out, once we get there.” He then turned to the turbaned man — “Gil, we need you to get a message back to Crim, let her know there’s been a change of plans.”

Gil laughed. “You can tell her yourself.” Twitching his head back, he whistled sharply down the alley, and three familiar figures stepped out from the shadows. Archilochus could not hide the surprise in his voice — “You’re supposed to be at the courthouse!”

Crim stepped forward, followed by Ukhala and Billy. “That’s where we were, until we were… ” The priestly woman frowned — “until Gil decided that we needed to be rescued.”

“I heard something suspicious in Grendus’ voice, and made some inquiries in the market,” Gil speaking in a flat, disinterested tone. “I found out right away that your cover story had been blown, so I knew we needed a new plan. I could have stopped the mission and let you return to the courthouse, but I suspected the Safety Committee wouldn’t release Wolf again. Getting our comrades out from house arrest, seemed the best option.”

“I disagreed — ” Crim glared back at Gil as she spoke — “but Gil’s plan had gone too far by the time I could object.” She looked around at everyone. “Congratulations, friends. We are all officially outlaws in the town of Philos.”

Archilochus slapped Jay’s shoulder. “Then I believe it’s only appropriate, that we meet this town’s leading outlaw.” And moments later, they exited the city’s gates, and headed north from the colony.